Untouchable
by onlyyoujarly
Summary: They just might be eachothers ultimate salvation, if not destruction. Ric/Sam
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- I have six parts written for this story, but I want to see if anyone is interested before I upload them all.**

It was bound to happen eventually. With the tiny outfits she wore, and the way his eyes always seemed to linger just a little too long.

But neither of them imagined it would happen this soon. They had assumed they would be able to fight it a little longer. At least until after her wedding to another man, until after his wife gave birth to his child. But a druggie can only go without a fix for so long, until they just snap.

And Ric Lansing had snapped, watching Samantha McCall parade around in her skin tight jeans. He needed her, craved her. Barely remembered how she tasted, all he knew was he needed more…and now.

So here they were, his lips latched onto every sweet piece of flesh they could reach, her small hands tearing his tie from his neck, before starting their work on his buttons. Even now, when he had her, he wanted more.

He kissed a path down to the collar of her t-shirt, biting and sucking, not bothering to worry about whether he was leaving marks. He took a moment to appreciate the way the yellow complimented her tan skin, before tugging the garment over her head.

He groaned inwardly when she stopped undoing his shirt, her shaking hands gripping the collar firmly, she ripped it, over half the buttons popping off in the process. Her chocolate eyes met his, her lips curling up into the sexiest smile, before he crushed his lips to hers.

Her hands explored his chest, raking her nails across the sensitive skin. He moved his lips to her cheek, tenderly kissing each one, as he unclasped her bra.  
She whimpered, pressing her body flush against his, and tangling her hands in his hair, forcefully pulling his lips back to hers for a heated kiss. His hands swiftly began undoing her jeans, allowing them to pool at her feet.

Her nails raked down his back, drawing a small hiss from his lips. They stopped at the hem of his khakis, slowly running along his sides, before finally resting on his lower abs. Her lips latched onto the side of his neck, sensually running her tongue down to his shoulder, hastily undoing his dress pants. Hooking her slender fingers in his belt loops, she pulled them down his muscular legs, pausing on her way down to pay him a little attention through his boxers.

His eyes closed momentarily, before he threaded his fingers through her hair, urging her up, and immediately capturing her lips. Everything about her was intoxicating, but there was something about the way her full lips molded just right with his own, and how her curves always melted into him, as his tongue dueled with hers, tasting her, discovering her.

He would give up anything to experience that rush. Even if it meant losing everything he had worked so hard to build. Their lips separated and he pulled her even closer to him, their bodies molding together perfectly. For a split second it almost seemed that this was more than what it really was. That is wasn't just a twisted, sadistic game they played with each other. That maybe unworthy people like them, might just be worth something.

But he forced the unrealistic thoughts from his head, and forced himself to ignore the way she fit against him almost flawlessly enough to make him forget any fleeting memory of ever having loved Liz, or that Kate was carrying his child.

She buried her face into his neck, her hot breath reeking havoc on all his senses.

"I want you." She whispered, nipping light at his ear.

Groaning quietly, he pushed her away gently, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her nearly naked body. He kneeled in front of her, smiling up at her, as he lovingly massaged her hips, kissing right above her panties. Her fingers lightly ran across his cheek, in a way that dangerously resembled…care, as his hands wound themselves into the lace of her underwear, tugging them down her long legs.

"You're so beautiful." It was a murmured thought that wasn't meant to pass his lips, but he knew it had when a lone tear fell from her brown depths.

Her tiny hands cupped his face, as he stood up; slowly bringing his lips back to hers. He lifted her into his arms, loving the taste of his blood combined with hers, as their teeth clashed.  
They fell back onto the bed he shared with another woman. A woman that loved him with her heart and soul. A woman he was never meant to have, and was surely about to destroy.

But as Samantha McCall peered up at him, almost shyly under her long lashes, he could think of a billion reasons to stop, but none of them were quite worth the loss of completeness he felt only when he was buried deep with in her.

He brushed his lips over hers, except this time it was loving, and despite her attempts to become aggressive, he was insistent. He wanted to bury himself so deep inside her, that he was etched into her very soul. That when she gave herself to Lucky the night of their wedding, she would be know in heart-wrenching detail just how perfect they were together.

It was something that neither of them had ever wanted to admit. It wasn't right. Them needing each other the way they did, when they both had dependable, loving significant others undeserving of this destruction.

But they did need each other. There was no longer any way to deny the obvious- the pull, the ache, the way only his mouth on her lips could soothe the hunger.

Her nails dug into his back. Marking him as hers for that moment, if none other as they allowed themselves to feel as close to loved as they could, with the one person in the world that could probably save them, if they didn't destroy them first.


	2. Chapter 2

-1Ric Lansing caught sight of her across the crossed Metro Court, a tight red dress clinging to her curves, and her dark hair tied back into a bun. Samantha McCall was perfection, clinging to Lucky's arm, laughing at the right times, and flashing her over-sized engagement ring to every young woman who would listen. She was every mans' dream.

But those men didn't notice the emptiness in her dark eyes, or the small frown set on her lips everytime she thought she wasn't being watched. They didn't know how it felt to touch her. Not even her husband-to-be had the privelage to touch her in the ways he had. Ric Lansing knew Sam McCall in ways she didn't even know herself.

He forced a smile at the feel of his own wife's slender fingers on his shoulder. Kate molded herself to his side, his arm wrapping itself stiffly around her waist. "Mr. Spencer and Ms. McCall make such a gorgeous couple." She commented, idly caressing her green satin covered protruding stomach.

Ric wet his lips, millions of devious reasons as to why he would be a better match for 'Ms. McCall' played out in his mind. Almost as if sensing him, her mocha eyes focused on him, her shoulders tensing. He simply smiled.

"Yes. Such a gorgeous couple." He agreed, absentmindedly, all the while trying to figure out a way to make an escape and tear that ridiculously small amount of fabric from her body.

She could feel his eyes on her. The small hairs on her arms were standing on end. Swallowing thickly, she attempted to focus on her current conversation.

But she was like a moth attracted to a flame. Soon, she was sneaking what was meant to be a quick glance, but his smoldering hazel eyes made it impossible to look away, and had her entire body tensing in ancipation of what his darkening orbs promised.

She let out a long breath, shivering at the memory of his touch.

"Sam?" Lucky's concerned voice brought her attention back to him. "Are you feeling okay?"

She blinked a few times, attempting to rid herself of the forming imagines of Ric, making love to her in every possible way and location.

"Yeah. I'm fine." She assured him, quickly brushing her lips across his. "I just have to use the restroom." Before Lucky could utter a word in protest, she was pushing herself through the crowd of couples, and into the empty hall leading to the ladies' room.

Her small hand landed on the cool metal of the door handle, hot breath tickling her neck before she could even think to turn it. "Ric…" She murmured, turning around to face, their noses brushing, and breath mingling.

His hand gently ran across her cheek. It was a sweet gesture, something that rarely occurred. But when it did, it never failed to steal her breath. Then her small hands were grasping his face, pulling his lips to her own in a searing kiss.

A hiss escaped him, as he harshly shoved her back against the restroom door. She had no idea how he had managed to escape his wife, but she couldn't bring herself to care. There was time for that later. When Lucky was working a late shift, and she was in bed alone, without Ric's warm body or perfect lips.

Now, she was focused soley on this. On him. Them, everything they should be, but could never be. And his lips as they trailed along her neck and collar bone, discovering her in ways that scared her.

"I missed you." It left his lips naturally, vibrating against the silky skin of her shoulder, before he could completely think it through. It had been two weeks, five days, and thirteen hours since the last time he had felt her without barriers, without any overbearing pregnant wives or fiance's.

She tensed beneath his touch, the meaning of his words registering in her clouded mind. Her small hands shoved insistently against his chest, forcing him away from her.

"What did you say?" Her voice was steady, but her eyes were wide with uncertainity.

He tried to think of some coherent response that wouldn't send her running for the hills. "Samantha…" Was all he could think of.

She shook her head. "No, Ric." She insisted. "You can't. You, just…you can't. I'm getting married next month. I love Lucky." Though something flashed in her mocha eyes contradicted her words. "I can't…do this to him."

Ric eyes blazed with anger. "Too late, Samantha, you already did."

Her eyes misted with tears, as she wordlessly wrapped her arms around herself. "He's been nothing but good to me, and he would never hurt me."

Ric sneered at her comment. "Is it that he won't hurt you, or that he can't, Samantha?"

Tears spilled onto her cheeks, washing away the blush, and revealing her tanned flesh. "Lucky is a wonderful man, and he deserves so much than I can give him. I am lucky to have someone like him love me."

Then she was walking away, the few stray curls that had fallen from her up-do during their little tryst dancing across her neck.

He didn't try to stop her, and she didn't turn around. They had both made those mistakes in the past, only to have all their futile attempts shoved in their faces. So maybe it was better just to no try this time around.

Ric's fist connected with the wall, a slur of obscenities flowing from his mouth. When had everything become so damned complicated?

His plan had been to simply have a quickie in the hallway, before returning home with his pregnant wife. When did he actually start more than just wanting Samantha McCall? 


	3. Chapter 3

-1Pure white silk flawlessly flowed over her body, contrasting almost perfectly with her olive skin. She spun slowly in front of the full-length mirror. She had the sudden urge to tear it, cut it, stain it; anything to mar the purity of the material.

She wanted to tear it from her body, to not feel the softness brush against her. She wanted to beg Ric to take her in every possibly position, until they both passed out from the exhaustion of it all, until her very soul, essence, heart, existence became him. She wanted to hear his gruff voice whisper unspoken promises in her ear, with each thrust, groan, heavy breath.

She wanted to feel.

But she couldn't; she wouldn't do that to Lucky. She refused to be the reason the loving Lucky Spencer never loved again, or the reason Ric Lansing left behind everything he had built for himself.

Though, she had the power, and it was so tempting to run off with her estranged lover. Perhaps go someplace where no one knew either of them, where he wasn't stuck in his brother's shadow, and she wasn't always second choice to Elizabeth Webber.

_'I missed you.'_

His words resounded in her already clouded mind, and she found herself torn between screaming and just falling helplessly to her knees. She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't be with him, but she couldn't not be with him.

Her eyes misted with tears at the thought of being able to hold him whenever she wanted. Her chest heaving with a strangled sob, she dug her phone out of her purse and hurriedly dialed his number.

"Sam?"

Her breath hitched at the sound of his voice, and she was crying so hard she couldn't even bring herself to form the words she needed to say.

"Where are you?" He asked, his voice worried and urgent in her ear. "Sam…baby, talk to me."

She forced herself to swallow the oncoming sob. "I need to see you. Meet me in room three at Jake's in twenty minutes." She demanded.

"Sam…Kate.." He lamely protested.

"Ric…" She pleaded.

His name was all it took, and he was sighing into the phone, the sound in itself comforting her. "Fine. I'll figure something out."

Relieved, softly she cried into the phone, "Don't forget." before flipping her cell closed and slowly sinking down to her knees.

* * *

Impatiently Sam paced the small room, her eyes widening when the door opened, revealing a very soaked Ric.

Her eyes took in his body, his wet clothes clinging to his muscles.  
In a matter of seconds she was plastered to him, the white silk gown sliding easily against the wetness of his dress shirt and khakis. Her lips fused to his, swallowing any words of protest about having to get home to his wife soon.

He was hers for now, and she would be damned if he forgot that. She made quick work of getting his dress pants around his ankles, pressing herself against his growing manhood.

Teeth nipping at his ear, she whispered, "Take me…"

He groaned, the sound animalistic, even for him. Then his hands were positioned at the zipper of her dress, only to be redirected to the front by her smaller ones.

Panting, she demanded, "Rip it."

And he did, the tender silk material sliding down her body revealing a strapless bra and white lace panties.

"God…Sam." He ground out, her hips pressing insistently against his, as he busied himself with unclasping her bra.

She smiled, her lips latching onto his neck, cheek, lips, ear, every piece flesh she could reach, whispering as went, "Need, want, lust, savor, taste, fuck…me." She urged.

He literally ripped her the flimsy white lace concealing her womanhood, before ridding himself of his own boxers.

Then he was lifting her into his arms, her lean legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he drove into her. Their bodies quickly became sweat slicked as they struggled to keep up fast pace. Slowing down wasn't an option this time. Neither of them could bear to study the other, see the look of love shining in the other's eyes, or concentrate on the way their body's moved together in unison, her muscles clamping down on them as they both neared the edge.

As his breaths became heavier and her moans louder, she barely managed to whisper something in his ear, "Never love me."

Then the world was exploding, and he was crushing her slender body to his own.


	4. Chapter 4

-1The quiet click of the door snaps Sam out of her peaceful slumber. But it's the lack of presence of her lover that snaps her back to reality. This wasn't love, it wasn't one of those corny fairytales. Ric was not her soul mate. He was simply just another good fuck.

Her eyes landed on the torn silk of her wedding dress. This wasn't love. Then why did she risk the future she had given everything to get? Lucky finally loved her completely, without any reservation or memories of Liz.

Why had she been willing to destroy it all for Ric; the man who had been married to her mother. For god sakes, he used to be her step dad. He wasn't even a decent person. He had slept with her on the floor he shared with her mother. Her eyes clenched shut. She had involved in that horrible act.

But there was just something in his eyes that drew her in, something about the way he wiped her tears away that had made her feel as though that perhaps she was worth something. But it wasn't the emotions he had stirred in her, because she felt nothing for him.

Forcing herself out of the bed, her legs shaking, she dropped helplessly to the floor, her hands gripping the mutilated silk of her dress. She didn't love him, this whole thing was a mistake.

* * *

Ric stood outside the door. He could hear everything; could hear the unsteadiness of her feet as she stood, the pathetic sound of her dropping to the floor. He could almost feel each breath of her lungs as if it were his own.

It wasn't because he loved her. No, his pity for her was keeping him from moving. The sudden sweat forming on his forehead, the frantic beating of his heart, the shaking of his hands as he reached for the doorknob were all triggered by pity. Not love.

It didn't matter that he couldn't erase her from his memory, her scent, body, eyes. No. It wasn't love.

His hand turned the knob, as he hesitantly opened the door. What he saw stalled his every movement. Sam sitting in a fetal position, tears streaming down her face, dress clenched in her hands. She looked beautiful, her nude body reflected by the sun, the only light in the room.

Immediately, almost by instinct, he crouched down beside her, forcing her into his arms.

"I hate you!" She bit out, "Why are you here?"

"I know." His voice was quiet, as she finally surrendered herself over to him. The feel of her nude body pressed through the thin flannel of the remnants of his dress shirt was all too familiar; an addiction he just couldn't seem to shake. She was an addiction, but he didn't love her. He didn't care.

Then his lips were seeking hers out, forming with hers. He could taste the salt of her tears, as her hands moved to his neck, as she desperately pulled him against her.

He could feel her desperation in the way her shaking hands pulled him back to her quivering lips. She needed him, and he needed her to need him. But there was no emotion swirling in his lower gut. This was just sex.

Standing slowly, he practically carried her with him, both of them slowly falling onto the bed together. There wasn't any lust in her eyes, just pieces of who she used to be; of who she wanted to be.

* * *

Slowly, her hands fumbled to strip him of his shirt. They shouldn't be doing this, not like this. Where was the lust? She needed to see his hunger staring back at her. Instead the rawness of his eyes struck her to the core.

This wasn't love. Why was he looking at her as if she was his salvation; as if her insecurities hurt him? A shiver ran down her spine, as she finally rid him of his shirt, his chest meeting hers, brushing against her erect nipples.

The feeling was familiar. She had experienced it countless times. Then why did every rise and fall of his chest get to her? Why did she care if the heart beating above her ever stalled?

Then his lips lightly brushed hers, before standing and allowing his pants to pool around his feet. Seductively, he climbed back up onto the bed, his breath tickling every part of her on his journey to her face.

For a short moment her lungs refused to draw in air, his lips only a breath from her own. When their lips finally met, their was nothing lustful about it. If they weren't naked she would have thought it was just an excuse to touch her.

But it wasn't. This wasn't anything close to resembling love no matter how gentle his hands were, or how slowly he slid into her.

She hissed at the welcomed entry of him, her nails clenching his shoulders. She wanted so badly to drag her nails across his back, reminding them both that this wasn't suppose to be like this; it was supposed to be rough and leave them both feeling dirty and used. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Because this wasn't love. Because for some odd reason this man to reawaken every part of her; the good, bad, healed, broken. The past she regretted, the present she always seemed to get wrong, and the future she so desperately wanted.

As he moved above her, mesmerizing her by every drop of sweat that covered his body, every movement of his muscles, every emotion swirling in his eyes.

"I don't love you." She whimpered.

His eyes met hers, unknowingly revealing all of him.

"I know." He roughly breathed out, "Me either."


	5. Chapter 5

She smiled as Emily gushed about the custom made dress that Nikolas had purchased for her wedding. The same dress that lay in some hotel room in shreds. Emily's voice was light and cheery, commenting on how beautiful she had looked at the fitting, and how Lucky would defiantly agree.

Her entire body heated up, her eyes widening when the bell rung, announcing his presence. She turned towards him, her eyes meeting his for a split second.

"Sam, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I promised Nikolas I would be home in time to take advantage of our alone time. Liz is only keeping Spencer for a couple hours."

Her attention snapped back to Emily. "Yeah, it's fine." she insisted, hoping she didn't seem too eager.

As soon as she was gone, she followed Ric outside. This had to end, she was marrying Lucky in less than two weeks. She didn't have any legitimate excuse as to why her dress had mysteriously disappeared. It seemed as though every time Ric touched her, more obstacles were created, separating her from Lucky more.

The words were on her tongue, as she fumbled for the courage to say them. To end the only thing that seemed to make sense in all the chaos that had become her life.

His lips crashed against hers, catching the unspoken words before she could articulate them. His large hands grasped the back of her upper thighs, pressing her forcefully against the side wall of Kelly's.

She hissed from the pain, arching into the touches of her lover. His upper body separated from hers, a soft whimper leaving her lips. Smirking, he forced his shirt over his head before his lips attacked her neck.

Instinctively, her hips rocked with his, infuriated by the clothing separating them. He hissed, stepping away from her, her feet gently connecting with the ground. Swiftly, her shirt was lifted from her, his fingers artistically unclasping her bra.

She purred, reaching out for him, only to be denied. She clenched her eyes shut, her need for him burning her to the core. His calloused hands ran across the hem of her jeans, her abs flexing from the heat of his touch.

She bit her lip, sighing in anticipation as her pants fell around her feet. Hurriedly, she forced her heels off, not bothering to unbuckle them, before kicking her jeans off completely. Her tiny, shaking hands fumbled with the buckle of his khakis.

Lovingly, he clasped them, placing a kiss to her palms, before ridding himself of his own pants and boxers. Her breath caught at the simple, loving gesture.

Teasingly, he ran himself along the thin material of her thong. Her eyebrows drew together, her lip clamped between her teeth. "Please," she begged.

Her hands moved to the offending garment, but his hands covered hers, stalling her movements. "Leave it on," he ground out, before lifting her into his arms.

Moving the delicate material concealing her womanhood from him, he slowly entered her, savoring each inch as she concealed him. Her nails dug into his back, her hips moving insistently against his, silently demanding him to quicken his pace.

He groaned through clenched teeth, before pulling out of her completely, and ramming himself back in, stretching her. He repeated the action over and over, her cries growing in volume with each thrust. Her body began to shake in his arms, her muscles clenching around him.

Both breathless, he dropped her. Her cheek rested on his bare chest.

"We can't do this anymore," she murmured, struggling to redress herself. She avoided his eyes, but she could feel his gaze following her every movement, as she pulled her last article of clothing on.

Swallowing thickly, she grabbed his boxers, forcing them into his arms. "Get dressed," she ordered.

"Sam…" his voice was low, his tone desperate. His hands grasped her waist, his hold firm despite her attempts to move away. He pressed his lower body against her.

"No," she bit out. As soon as the cruel sound of her voice met her ears, she regretted it. He nodded, forcing himself to comprehend her words.

"It's over?"

"There's nothing to end," she stated, her eyes meeting his angry gaze. She rushed back into the diner before he noticed her tears.

It almost seemed mocking for her fiancé to be seated within ten feet of her. He had been in the same building she had been betraying him against. A small sob sounded from her, alerting Lucky to her being there.

Immediately, he was at her side, wiping away her tears. "Sam, baby what's wrong?" he questioned, his eyebrows knitting together with concern.

She forced a smile. "Nothing. I'm just…I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "For what?"

"For everything."


	6. Chapter 6

Sam had insisted that she didn't want a bachelorette party. But despite her arguments, Lucky's family had continued to plan out every detail. Every pastry, tablecloth, expensive wine had all been contributed by Lucky's family. They were all reminders of how she shouldn't be there. How each giggle, each drunken congratulations made the memory of Ric more vibrant.

With Ric she wouldn't have to do this. She wouldn't have to pretend to be somebody she wasn't; pretend to deserve Lucky. Because Ric didn't deserve her, and she didn't deserve him. However, men like Lucky who were great fathers, loving fiancés, understanding ex husbands, devoted sons, and brothers deserved more than she could ever be.

She looked around the room, her few guests chatting about their love lives. Most of them were there for the sake Lucky. Lulu, Emily, even Liz. They all sat in a circle, amongst the other women, laughing and passing around the alcohol in some sort of drinking game.

She knew she should join them in the activities. It was her party, and she seemed to be the only one dreading every second of it. Yet, there were only so many smiles she could muster. Lulu's laughing eyes settled on her, beckoning her over to them. She shook her head, faking yet another smile.

"I'll go make popcorn," she choked out, hurrying into the kitchen. The silence of the cold room relieved her, finally allowing her pent up emotions to take over. She slammed the palms of her hands on the counter, "you don't love him," she whispered, forcing each word from her dry throat.

Attempting to grasp the last bit of her sanity, she grabbed a bag of popcorn, shoving it into the microwave. Her hands shook as she pressed the numbers into the pad. Burying her face in her hands, she berated herself for her weakness.

The padding of bare feet broke through her reverie, followed by a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Sam…?" the voice of Emily was questioning.

Sam took in a shaky breath, her hands falling to her sides, as she turned towards the concerned woman.

"I'm fine," she lied, "just cold feet."

Emily didn't seem convinced, but didn't pry. A genuine smile crossed her face, as she motioned towards the beeping oven. "Need some help?"

She shook her head, "no."

Despite her answer, Emily's slender fingers retrieved the hot bowl.

"Here," she offered, handing it over to Sam, "Join us when you're ready."

Surprisingly, she exited the room, without any words of disapproval.

"Get yourself together," she hissed to herself, taking the first step out of the kitchen.

She gripped the bowl of popcorn, many sets of eager, friendly eyes focusing on her. They had all seemed to have accepted her, welcomed her into Lucky's life.

They thought she was worthy of Lucky, that she would never do what Liz had done. Even Liz had commented on how she made Lucky happier than she had been capable.

None of them were aware of the nights she had spent worshipping the body of another man with painstaking care. Wordlessly, she sat the bowl in the middle of the circle her guests had made. She sat down between Lulu and Emily, reaching for a piece of popcorn. The smell tickled her nostrils, a feeling of revulsion causing her to shutter.

Before it was even half way to her mouth, a wave of nausea hit her hard. Dropping it, she stood shakily, and rushed into the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she slumped to the floor, spilling the remains of her stomach. Wiping her face with the back of her hand, she gripped the toilet.

Her body convulsed, as she dry heaved. She choked on a sob, curling up into a ball when her body finally relaxed. Instinctively, her hand retrieved her phone from her pocket, her fingers dancing across the seven numbers that would connect her to the man she didn't love. Before she could comprehend what she was doing, she hit the send button.

The barely audible ringing emitting from her cell pounded in her head, reminding her that she should be calling her husband, not him. Lucky should be the one who swept her away from all the chaos, and held her hair back while she vomited.

"Hello? Sam….are you there? Sam..talk to me. Are you okay?" Ric's voice entered the received of her phone, tears stinging her eyes, she flipped it shut.

"Sam…" Emily's voice, and soft tap on the door, made Sam wince, "are you okay?"

She nodded, even though Emily couldn't see it, "yeah. I just think I have swine flu. Cameron had it a few days ago."

"Do you want me to call Lucky?"

"No," Sam whimpered, standing shakily, and unlocking the door. Emily entered, closing the door behind her.

"Sam, are you sure you're okay?"

She shook her head, burying her face in her hands. "No," she whispered.

The other woman didn't demand answers, she simply just pulled her into a small embrace, her slender fingers running gently through her hair.

The door swung open, revealing a very frantic Ric. Sam's eyes widened, Emily's hold on her loosening.

"Ric…" she hissed, her breath stalling, and her tears becoming more consistent, "what are you doing here?"

Wordlessly, he lifted her into his arms. The simple touch of his hands caused her entire to body to relax and tense at the same time. She had missed him so much the past few weeks.

She could feel the prying eyes of the other women, as Ric left the house. His eyes never once strayed from hers. He acted as though this was normal. That him coming to her rescue was something he should be doing, rather than her husband.

Gently, he placed her in the passenger seat of his car, before climbing in himself. His fingers fiddled with the keys, but had yet to enter them into the ignition.

"Why?" he demanded.

Sam looked down at her hands, her tears reflecting off the gold of her wedding ring. "Ric…"

"Sam," his voice was soft but stern, "why?"

"Lucky," she whispered.

"Damnit!" His sudden outburst caused her to jump, "Sam, I left Kate for you! I walked away from the only thing I have ever done right! FOR YOU!"

She just sat, letting his words sink in.

His calloused hands cupped her chin, softly forcing her eyes to meet his, "Sam, I love you," his voice softened, his breath uneven, as his lips lightly brushed her own.

She shook her head, "no," she choked, "You don't. You can't."

He nodded, his lips pressing together in a thin line. "We should get you home to your fiancé," he bit out the last word, disgust apparent in his voice.

"Ric…"

He shook his head, "Save it."


	7. Chapter 7

Sam was flipping through a rack of baby clothes. She imagined what kind of life this baby would have, being conceived from an affair. Would he or she resent her?

Would she tell her baby the truth? It would be so much easier to deceive Lucky. Part of her thought it would be best. Then another part of her was disgusted at ever having considered it.

It was then she heard the familiar chuckle of him. She followed the sound, her eyes locating the happy couple. Kate was shining with pride as she fingered through a rack of little pink sundresses. A girl. She was having a girl.

She looked away for a split second, before her attention unwillingly returned to them. He said he had left her. Now htere he was, less than ten feet away, planning for the baby he was having with his wife. Even though it was irrational, she felt betrayed and as if she meant nothing to him. Even if they could never logically be together, she had assumed that he would fight a little harder.

Sam's hand landed protectively over her abdomen. She hadn't taken the pregnancy test yet out of fear of what it would say. Yet, somehow she already knew. She could sense the little one's soul intertwining with her own, trusting her with his/her life.

His eyes connected with her own, a combination of hatred, jealousy, fury, and a deep sadness staring back at her. Swiftly, she released the tiny piece of clothing she had been observing and rushed from the store.

* * *

She stood outside the building, her heart protesting every step she took closer to the entrance. This was the only option. This way everyone would come out unscathed. Everyone except for the innocent being growing inside her.

She felt his presence behind her, but she didn't turn around. She wouldn't allow him the knowledge that she sensed him, that she ached for him.

"Sam…" his voice was raspy and emotional.

Slowly, she turned around, her nose nearly brushing his. Startled by his closeness, she stumbled back. His hands went to her waist to steady her, and she wanted nothing more for him to take her in the parking lot.

"Why are you here?"

She looked down, knowing that there was no way of avoiding it. He knew, and that changed everything. Unexpectedly. even to her, tears filmed her eyes, as she stepped back and out of his arms.

She shrugged. "You are having a baby with Kate. I'm marrying Lucky in less than a week."

His eyes darkened. "Does he know about us?"

She shook her head.

"Kate knows. I told her. Everything."

The tears finally fell. "Why? You were with her…I saw you. How?" She stumbled over her words.

He smiled sadly. "I told her I wanted to be with you, but that I wanted to be in my baby's life. She agreed that it wasn't fair to either of us to live a lie, because she is still infatuated with Sonny."

"Oh…" she trailed off, "I love Lucky." The bluntness and lack of emotion of the statement made it painfully obvious it was a lie.

His eyes remained glued on hers, even when she looked down at the concrete of the parking lot.

"No, you don't." He sounded so sure, as he moved closer to her. "In case you didn't remember the gown you were supposed to wear was torn to shreds. If you really loved him, and really wanted to marry him you wouldn't have asked me to do that," he lifted her chin, forcing her eyes on his "You're waiting for me to give you a reason to leave. For me to assure you that we can be happy, and that I won't hurt you. But you know I can't do that. We are a bomb waiting to combust, but if it doesn't burn us we could be really happy. That scares you. It is so much easier to settle into the routine of being a dutiful housewife to Lucky, because you don't love him, and he couldn't hurt you. I can and that scares you."

She turned her head sharply, his hand releasing its hold. She turned away from him, intent on entering the building. His large hand grasped her upper arm, whirling her around. His hazel eyes were dark with fury, as he menacingly stepped close to her, the heat of his body causing her to shiver.

He motioned between them. "That baby is mine too. I will damned if I let you murder it," his expression softened, as his fingers trailed along her tear stained face, "I know you want this baby. You love it already. Don't do this yourself. Don't do this me…us. Please."

"Us?" She choked out.

He just nodded, before walking away, leaving her in the empty parking lot. She looked back at the tan building. All she had to do was go in, lay down, and be done with it. No one would believe Ric over her. But she didn't. Instead she made her way back to her car, not knowing what other solution there was. She just knew there had to be one, because she would not murder this child.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N- This story is complete, I just haven't been posting my work over here, but I'm going to start again. If anyone is interested in this story, please make yourself known, and I will post the rest of this story.**

Lucky walked into the kitchen, and peered over Sam's shoulder.

"Please, tell me you're not trying to cook."

She scrunched her nose up at him, and he smiled. "Yes, Spencer I am."

He sighed, his lips set into a frown. "Sam, baby. I can't stay for breakfast. I have to be at the station soon. Last night, a new case came in, and it seems to be really complicated. I'm really sorry," he kissed the left side of her neck "How bout we go out to lunch during my break?"

She tensed. "I can't. I um…have an appointment. A doctor's appointment."

He nods, his eyebrows creasing with worry. "What's wrong?"

She turned around in his arms, and looked up at him. Her small hand splayed across his cheek. "Nothing, nothing at all."

He seemed doubtful, but eventually smiled unsurely. "Alright, well if you need me, just call the station."

* * *

She wrung her hands in her lap, dried blood on her palms, from digging her nails into them earlier. Patrick Drake seemed apologetic when he entered her room.

"Sam…" He sighed, and cleared his throat.

She cleared her throat, her eyes stinging with tears. "Am I…ya know?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm sorry."

She clenched her eyes shut against the tears, but they fell anyway. Even if the circumstances hadn't been the most reasonable…after a couple days of denial she had finally accepted it. And now, two days before her wedding she had actually became excited about the idea of having a baby. But, there wasn't a baby. Just like there wasn't a her and Ric anymore…just like she didn't love him.

She buried her face in her hands and mumbled "bullshit."

She looked back up at Patrick. "Sorry…um. I just…I gotta go." Then she was shoving her way through other patients, and family members awaiting news of their sick loved ones.

* * *

She dialed his number, her head resting against her steering wheel.

His voice was gruff when he answered. "McCall."

"Ric…I'm not. There's no baby."

"That's wonderful. Now, you are free to marry saintly Spencer."

"Ric, I'm sorry…for everything."

He sighed heavily into her ear. "I know you are, Samantha. But I'm not."

She could the feel the burn of tears as they formed behind her eyes. "Ric…"

"Sam, I want you to be happy, but I can't let you go. And I know you don't want me too."

"Ric, that's bullshit. I'm getting married in less than 48 hours. I love Lucky, he is who I want."

"If I were there with you, and I pulled you into a kiss would you stop me?" He didn't wait for her answer. "No, you wouldn't, because you want me. You can't deny that, and as long as we are both breathing it can't be denied."

"I'll leave town. Right after the reception, I'll catch a plane to Germany or something. Anywhere but here."

"Do I scare you that much? Does this thing we have scare you so much you have to run? Is it really that strong of a pull? Samantha, because if it is, isn't it worth paying attention to? Doesn't it, don't we, deserve a chance?"

"We'll just ruin each other."

"We're both already fucked up."

"Ric…"

"Sam…"

"I gotta go." She flipped her phone closed, and started her car.

* * *

A sharp breath burned her lungs, when Emily tightened the corset of her new wedding dress.

"It's such a shame the other one was ruined," Emily stated.

Sam nodded, frowning at the memory of Ric ripping it. "Yeah, it is."

Emily sighed. "Sam, I respect you. A lot. You are a good woman. I've never seen Lucky this happy for a while. But if there is any reason you don't want to go through with this…"

Sam shook her head. "No, Emily. I love him. I love Lucky."

She smiled, and nodded. "Well then, we better have this dress altered soon, or there won't be a wedding."

Sam forced a smile. No wedding. She detested what effect those words had on her. They brought on an unrealistic fear, but worst of all a sense of peace. Something she only experienced when her limbs were tangled with Rics, and her body still buzzed from her release. It was an odd feeling, nearly a sensation, that always washed over her the few short moments before she fell asleep in his arms.

It made it impossible to leave him in those silent stolen moments, but impossible to stay when the afterglow faded. At first it had made her feel disgusting and shameful. That was before she had been forced to accept the truth. Before Ric finally verbalized those three words, but it didn't matter. She was going to marry Lucky. This was what she had always wanted. A stable home with a loving husband, and children. She finally had that.

It was time for her to let go of her old habits of danger rushes and drinking binges. It was time to let go of Sam McCall and become Mrs. Spencer; dutiful, supportive wife to Lucky, and selfless mother to Cameron.

She could do it, and she would. She already had the flight booked, and Lucky had reluctantly agreed to go. Even though she knew it was selfish to have asked him, she promised herself that when they got to where they were going, she would be the selfless one. That she would be everything she wasn't, but always wanted to be.


	9. Chapter 9

"You look beautiful, Sam!" Alexis hugged her from behind, their eyes connecting in the mirror.

Having seen the tears in Sam's, Alexis turned her around. "What's wrong?"

Sam shook her head, afraid if she spoke she would break down. It wasn't like she could confess her love for her mother's ex-husband. They had recently made peace, and Alexis was slowly beginning to respect her.

She faked a smile and pretended to pat her hair in place. "Do I look okay?"

Alexis nodded, tears brimming her eyes. "I'm so proud of you."

Sam froze. Her mom was proud of her. "Alexis…"

"No, Sam. You have become a wonderful woman, and if anyone deserves Lucky, it's you."

She shook her head, then the tears began to fall, and she was struggling to breath. "I can't do this. I can't."

Alexis framed her face with her hands, and smiled. "Yes, you can. And you will, because you do deserve Lucky."

Sam nodded to herself, and feverishly began wiping her tears. "Yeah. He loves me. Lucky loves me."

Her mom's smile brightened. "Yeah, he does."

"I can do this," she whispered to herself, as Lulu, the last of her matrons walked down the aisle. Those four words became a mantra in her head, as she forced her feet to move.

Lucky's eyes met hers, and they were shining with love and happiness.

"I can do this," she repeated, but she could feel the sting of tears. She clenched her bouquet tighter the closer she got to him. This is what she had always wanted; the fairytale wedding. And she had been given the whole package; prince, baby, and all.

She could do this. She would do this. She was doing this.

"_In case you didn't remember the gown you were supposed to wear was torn to shreds. If you really loved him, and really wanted to marry him you wouldn't have asked me to do that," he lifted her chin, forcing her eyes on his "You're waiting for me to give you a reason to leave. For me to assure you that we can be happy, and that I won't hurt you. But you know I can't do that. We are a bomb waiting to combust, but if it doesn't burn us we could be really happy. That scares you. It is so much easier to settle into the routine of being a dutiful housewife to Lucky, because you don't love him, and he couldn't hurt you. I can and that scares you." _

Ric's words rang in her ears. "I'm not scared," she disagreed with her memory. "I want this…."

"Sam?"

She snapped out of her thoughts, and realized that she was standing directly in front of Lucky, and everybody was waiting for her to take the final step.

She bit down her lower lip, the metallic taste of her own blood invading her senses. "I can't do this. I am scared."

Lucky's eyebrows drew together in concern. "What scares you?"

"Love," it was a low mumble, and spoken mainly to herself. She dropped her bouquet, and tearfully apologized to Lucky. "I'm sorry…"

Her heart stopped when she saw Ric at the back of the church. "Samantha, why does love scare you? Mr. Spencer is clearly a good man. What could possibly scare you about spending your life with him? Surely, he would never hurt you." His voice was loud and echoed through the entire church.

She swallowed thickly. "He wouldn't," she clarified.

"Then why the hesitation?" Ric pressed.

"Because, I don't deserve him."

Ric shook his head. "Ms. McCall, that's bullshit. Everyone in this church knows that's a lie, and if they don't, then they're ignorant. Why does love really scare you? Why can't you marry him?"

"I can't marry him….because, because I'm not scared."

"Now you're contradicting yourself…"

She shook her head, and began to descend the aisle towards him. "I can't marry him because I'm not scared."

"Why aren't you scared?" He demanded, his patience fading.

"Because, we would have a routine, and I don't do routines."

"Why?"

"Because…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry."

Then she began to hurry down the aisle and towards the door, but Ric stopped her.

"Samantha, tell them," he whispered into her ear.

She jerked away from him, and glared. "There's nothing to tell."

He shook his head. "If you don't, I will."

"Why are you even here?"

"Why are you leaving your own wedding?"

"I don't know! Now move outta my way!" She yelled back. She was vaguely aware that everyone's attention was focused on them, but something about Ric always brought out all her emotions, intensified times a hundred.

"Yes, you do!"

"Is this what you want? Do you want me to ruin both our reputations in front of all these people? DO YOU WANT TO BREAK EVERYONE'S TRUST AND LOSE THEIR RESPECT?"

He remained silent, his eyes dead-set on hers. She glared at him, with angry tears cascading down her face. She turned towards her mother.

"I'm sure everyone in this room knows about me fucking my step dad the night of the blackout. And that he is now married to Kate, and let's not forget he knocked her up. But, none of you knew that I've been fucking him for months since that night, and that when he left Kate, it was for me. Or that no matter how much I hate him, no matter much I resent him or wish him dead…" Her voice trailed. "I love him."

Everyone was silent, and all Sam could hear was Ric's labored breathing as he stepped behind her. His mouth pressed to the back of her neck, and she whipped around.

She shook her head. "Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted? For me to hurt Alexis and Lucky."

He grabbed her upper arms so she couldn't move away from him. "No, that's not what I wanted. I'm just so sick of being your dirty secret, of you being ashamed of loving me."

"Sam…" Her mom's voice caused her to turn around.

Alexis' hand slammed into Sam's cheek with a loud crack. "I want you to stay away from my girls!"

Immediately, Ric was in front of her and hiding her from everyone's accusing and disapproving glares. She allowed him to guide her out of the church, her hand touching the spot her mother had slapped her.

"I hate you!" She sobbed, sinking to the pavement of the parking lot.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N- This chapter is purely SEX! SEX! SEX! GRAPHIC SEX! If that offends you, you can skip this chapter.**_

"I hate you!" Sam jumped to her feet, and started advancing towards him.

"No, you don't," he disagreed, and to prove his point, he pulled her into a bruising kiss. Anyone could have walked out and seen them, but Ric didn't give a shit. After nearly two weeks of not being inside her, he was crazed enough to take her right there in the parking lot.

Her nails dug into the flesh of his neck, and he lifted her into his arms, blindly searching for a surface to lay her on.

"Car…" she murmured, while unbuttoning his shirt.

He growled, and started in the direction towards his car. She reached behind her, and opened the door to the backseat. They bother toppled onto the leather interior. Her shaking hands were only half way done with getting rid of his shirt, so he violently clasped them over her head.

She looked up at him, her eyes darker than he had ever remembered seeing them. He released her wrists, and hastily began to unbuckle his belt and pants. She was just as turned on as him, if not more. He could smell her juices, and it only made his own hunger escalate.

Her slender legs hastily kicked at his boxers, once he had his pants kicked onto the pavement. He hissed, when her slender legs wrapped around his waist and bucked against his. He cursed whoever designed her damn wedding dress. It was too fluffy, and had too many layers.

"Fuck it," he mumbled, before proceeding to rip, yet another one of her dresses. Then he drove into her. Neither of them needed foreplay, not that they ever did really.

After only his second thrust he felt her muscles tighten around them. He clenched his eyes shut, and forced himself to remain still and in control. He didn't want it to end too soon. He was going fuck her until she couldn't stand, until every last guest came into the parking lot, and screamed at them.

She moaned loudly, their public location not fazing her. "Harder!" She demanded, and boy did he comply.

His balls were slapping against her moist curls with each thrust, burying him to the hilt each time. But, he needed to go deeper, needed to feel more of her. Needed to her chant his name.

Still using one arm to support his weight, he reached in-between their bodies to toy with her clit.

"Oh…fuck!" The shrill sound of her moan rang in his ears, and nearly made him wince. Her muscles began to spasm again, and he knew she was really close.

"Ric!" The sound of his name made his movements more frantic. As soon as the first of her juices coated his penis, he stopped all movement, and slowly slid out of her.

Her eyes flew open, frustrated tears clouding her hungry eyes.

"You're mine. Not Lucky's. He can't make you cum as hard as I do," he breathed into her ear.

"Yes…" she agreed, frantically moving her hips, in a vain attempt to make him move.

"Say it," he ordered.

Her eyes narrowed. "Not until you prove it's true."

He growled, and rammed back into her, rubbing her clit feverously. Her back arched, her moaning escalating with each thrust. This time when her muscles tightened around him, he allowed both of them a much needed release.

He collapsed on top of her, too exhausted to move. But when her internal muscles gripped him tighter than he thought possible, the hunger returned. Only she could rile him up like this; make him so horny that his eyes crossed.

"We need to move before someone sees us," he moaned into her neck.

"Fuck me again, and then we will," she breathed.

He pulled out of her completely, causing her to complain like a little girl. He shut the door of his car, not bothering to retrieve his clothes from outside. She moaned when his penis brushed her wet curls, and naturally he responded with a groan of his own.

Grabbing the underside of her knees, he lifted her legs over his shoulders, before once again thrusting inside her. She screamed at the sensation, and he remembered why this was his favorite position. With each movement, he brushed against her clit.

"Oh god! Ric!"

He loved it when she said his name, so he sped up. As predicted she screamed his name again, but this time it was louder and almost pleading. Neither of them lasted long, and soon he was once again crashing down onto her.

"Damn…" he mumbled.

She tensed beside him. "Why do I let you do this to me?" She asked, mostly herself.

"Because you love me," he offered.

She looked up at him, before burying her face in his neck and crying.


	11. Chapter 11

Sam stared out the window, refusing to look at her driving companion. She rested her head against the cool window, and watched her breath fog up the glass. She loved Ric, she had admitted it in front of all her closest friends and family.

After Jason, she never though she'd let herself get back into the place; where she was pathetic and dependant on someone. And she was scared shitless of him, of being this close to him; not only physically but emotionally.

One of the last pure things in the fucked up world, and she had even gotten it wrong. It was unethical, the way parents fed their children bullshit stories about happy endings and true love. Naïve teenage girls being thrust into high school without knowing the cruel truth of their first boyfriend's intentions, and even if they did…those damn fairytales were so deeply imbedded in their minds, they didn't believe their mothers when they finally told them truth.

Except, Sam wasn't a teenage girl. She was a worthless woman in love with her former step daddy; a selfish monster. And they were just about to cross the state line, and leave it all behind. Even his unborn baby girl, and her two younger sisters.

And the most fucked up part was she didn't care. Not one bit. At that moment she would have jumped for joy, if he would accidentally drive off a bridge, and kill them both. That way all the ones they had destroyed would be relieved from any of their future destruction.

She felt his eyes on her, but her eyes remained fixated on the scenery, which consisted of trees and trees…and more damn trees. Just as she was contemplating how it would feel to jump out of a moving vehicle, he sped up.

She cussed when she was thrust back against her seat, her head hitting the window hard enough, she could hear a crack.

She glared at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

He didn't even look over at her, his jaw set, and fingers clenched around the steeling wheel.

He hated her for hating him. He was leaving it all behind for her, and he hated himself for being willing to. Even without asking, he knew it was what she needed. It was what they both needed. And he hated himself even more for that.

What kind of father needed to be away from his children, his little girls?

"We have to go back." Her voice was low. "You have kids, you can't just run."

He looked over at her. "I know."

And because he wanted a few more hours in the little universe they had made, he turned up the music until his ears were ringing. He looked over at who could potentially be the love of his life, and wasn't surprised, when she failed to even wince.

Her eyes were looking straight ahead, and he could tell by her rapid blinking, she was fighting off tears. It was never supposed to be this way. He was never supposed to have sex with his stepdaughter on the floor of the house he shared with her mother. He was never supposed to fall in love with her.

But, he had, and now they were here. Running away from everything that could never be left. He knew that once they returned to Port Charles they would have to go back to normal. There was no doubt that Lucky would eventually forgive Sam, because he was a good guy, and that's what he did.

Even if he didn't, there was no way Sam would ever stop resenting him. And he wasn't even sure he would ever stop resenting himself.

They stopped at a small café, once there was a comfortable distance between them and PC. They didn't even leave the car, before he was speeding off again. Forget food, they both needed alcohol. One last night of drunken sex would have to be enough.

Neither of them were capable of declarations of love, the one time Sam had admitting her feelings for him, would be the last. He knew it, and he was sure, eventually, he would learn to accept it.

But, tonight he was going to get them both drunk, and force her to let him take control. Force her to go slow, and be gentle. That's all he wanted, one chance to make love to her, instead of fucking her.


	12. Chapter 12

There was a gentle urgency in their touches, as they stumbled into the hotel room he had gotten for the night. She moaned quietly into his ear, when he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her into his arms. Slowly, he lowered them both to the bed.

Her breaths were coming out in gasps, and soon she was pushing him off her, agitated at his slow pace. She tore her shirt off, but he grasped her wrists before she could continue to strip. She glared at him, but sighed when his fingers trailed along her newly bare abdomen.

He needed to take this slow, needed to imprint her every curve into his mind. Now, he wished he had done it from the start, instead of taking her roughly. But, that was before he had fallen in love with her, or at least admitted it to himself. So, tonight was it. His only chance, so he had to make it everything he would never have with her.

He gathered her in his arms and pushed her back onto the mattress. She looked up at him questionably. He offered her a small smile, and began to kiss along her stomach, transfixed by each noise and movement she made. He ran his tongue along the hem of her jeans, and nearly cried at how she said his name, so breathless and vulnerable.

Her hips lifted off the mattress, when his mouth touched right above the waistline of her pants. He gripped them and held them in place. She groaned in annoyance, but it immediately became a breathy slur of his name when he touched her through her jeans.

The need inside him grew, when she said his name. But, it wasn't lust. It was an ache he knew he would feel every second after that night. An ache for her. For the baby he would have given anything to have her be carrying. For a beginning that didn't include anyone else.

He smiled sadly at her, and reached down to wipe away a single tear from her face. His eyes never left hers as he pulled her jeans down her legs. He kissed her lightly through her panties, and she let out a strangled moan, which turned into a sob.

His throat began to burn as he tried to hold back his own cries. Her small hands reached for him, and he helplessly complied. Within the last year of their affair, he had never seen her like this. Before her, he had never been like this. Her slender fingers tugged at his shirt, and he helped her rid himself of the cloth.

She bit down on her lower lip, and closed her eyes, before looking up at him.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, covering her face with her hands.

Gently, he grasped her wrists. "Don't," he whispered. "Don't hide yourself. Not from me."

She looked at him through her eyelashes, almost shyly. "Please."

It was a simple plea, one he was powerless, but to grant. He stood from the bed, and she whimpered from the loss. He smiled at her reassuringly, and proceeded to pull down his pants and boxers.

Torturously slow, he lowered himself on top of her. He aligned their bodies, and she sighed in his ear at the simple contact. She bent one knee, but it remained on the mattress, instead of urging him inside her.

He rested his forehead to hers, before slowly pushing into her, taking the time to admire her every reaction. They moved together, slowly, both afraid to completely vocalize their pleasure, in fear of ruining their last time.

Even after they had both found release, they stayed in the same position. He remained inside of her, even after they had fallen asleep.

4 years later

Her two-year old squirmed under her wiggling fingers, giggling loudly. "Momma, top."

Sam laughed, then pressed a kiss to Laura's cheek. "Go play, baby. We have to leave soon."

"Sammy," Cameron yelled for her, before she could rejoin Lucky on the bench. "She pushed me!"

She looked over to who he was pointing at, and her breath hitched when her eyes landed on a small girl with Ric's dark hair. She wasn't much older than Laura, maybe a couple years or so.

She tore her eyes away from the child, only for them to quickly meet Ric's. He offered her a small smile, and scooped his toddler into his arms.

She stood there for a few seconds, just staring at him, not quite believing that he was there, only a few feet away. She knew she should say something, inform him that his daughter had hurt Cameron, but her mouth was too dry.

Apparently, having forgotten his scraped knee, Cameron began to pull her towards the swings. "Come on. Come push me."

Reluctantly, she looked away from Ric, and down at her stepson. She smiled at him, and followed him over to the swing set.


End file.
